The Lost Children
by TalepieceUK
Summary: Something is attacking the Children of Time.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Lost Children (1/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

* * *

They was always a way out, the woman knew that. She'd known it for a long time. Always a way out of any place, though sometimes the way out was through time not space. She'd learned that a long time ago too. So, really, she'd chosen to stay in this place for the past dozen years. It was nice enough after all. Not great but there were worse places in the world and worse worlds, come to that. But she'd kept her eyes open, seen the weaknesses, spotted the opportunities. Somehow she'd always known that a time would come when she'd need a way out. A quick, convenient way out.

Then the voices had started. Not the usual voices, the ones so many people in this place heard. No, these were real voices. Maybe not voices of this Earth and certainly not human voices but real. She'd waited, knowing something would follow the voices and curious to see what it was. There weren't a lot of surprises in a place like this so it was nice to have something to think about. Something more than what they'd be having for tea.

To be honest, she hadn't expected the blue smoke. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but that wasn't it. And the thing that followed the smoke - no, certainly hadn't expected that. But what really freaked her out, what truly terrified her, were the words. The voices had just been gibbering nonsense before. Voices, some words, but not anything coherent. The smoke had bought clarity. Ironic really. And clarity had bought the deep down fear that even she hadn't felt too many times in her life. Three, she decided after a moment's thought.

Only a moment, though. She had been waiting in the dark corner between two of the outbuildings. Old, ramshackle things that should have been pulled down years before. Any fool could see they were the perfect place to hide while you waited for the lone security guard to make his rounds. Well, apparently only one fool. She waited a few seconds more, giving the man chance to amble down the path. Then she was moving. She tugged her cardigan closer around her and picked up her pace. The middle of the night. Escaping her home of the past twelve years. She felt giddy with the excitement of it, suddenly reminded of how her life used to be.

This next few minutes was the tricky bit. Wait...wait...now. She jogged across the open space and threw herself against the wall. High and topped with spikes. Though she'd never been sure if that was to keep people in or keep people out. Didn't matter; she knew something that the rest didn't. Oh boy, did she. Actually, she reminded herself, she knew lots of things the others didn't. Three of those things were truly terrifying.

She glanced at the corner of the wall, where it turned at right angles to run down the North side of the grounds. She hesitated, stumbling over her own feet as her focus was held by the angle. Maybe that was it. Angles? Could that be it? Nah, surely not? But, then...anything was possible - she knew that too. It didn't matter; she had her chance now. The coast was clear and the night was hers. And she knew where she was going too. The most important part of any escape plan: know where you were headed before you left. Thank god for the library in this place. It would take her the rest of the night and she'd have to be bloody careful but, yes, she could do it. Because someone had to know, someone had to do something about this. And there was only one person she was absolutely sure could live up to that.

She took a deep breath and made her move.

* * *

She'd always been proud of her handwriting but her old fingers weren't as dexterous as they once had been. And she was rushing now anyway. Always difficult to write well when you were rushing to get your last words down. They were her last words, she was sure of it. Liz Shaw was sure of it. Someone had teased her with that once. Years ago when she'd returned to the University after her brief time with UNIT. Oh the Doctor. He really did have a lot to answer for. He'd ruined her really. It wasn't a nice way to say it but it was accurate. Ruined her. She couldn't talk about any of the things she'd seen. Not because of the Official Secrets Act - well, partly because of that - but because of the sheer lunacy of what she'd seen and done. Absolute madness.

And now the madness was coming for her again. Coming for her one last time. Funny how things worked out sometimes, Retiring from academia...moving in to the little cottage that Dr Quinn had lived and died in...taking up some of what her old colleagues would call "questionable" studies. Questionable! If they only knew.

She had hoped that the old cottage might be her saviour. Angles seemed to be a big part of all this business and the cottage walls were so ill-formed that there wasn't a clean angle in the place. But, apparently, clean angles weren't necessary - any old angle would do. The voices started now and she wrote more quickly, her usually fine hand becoming an urgent scrawl. She'd called the Brigadier to warn him but he was off somewhere doing something official. Or playing golf perhaps. No way to contact the Doctor and she wouldn't recognise him if he knocked on the door right this minute. Probably a few regenerations down the line by now. She could have done with a couple of regenerations herself.

So her notebooks and journals would have to do. She had a computer but you could never really trust the things. No, good old fashioned handwriting from a good, old fashioned academic. That would do the job. The voices gibbered away and she just laughed at them. Then the smoke began. Blue. A lovely blue really. Wouldn't be a bad colour for the bathroom, she thought idly. It didn't smell. Funny that; no scent at all. She'd expected to be writing the word "foetid". The room was warming up though. The smoke seeped out of the corner and swirled around lazily. The voices grew more clear and she raised her eyes from the book, pen hovering over the page as she tilted her head and listened carefully.

'Ah,' she said, 'Ah, yes, now I understand.'

She was glad. It was the one mystery she had feared would elude her: why. The wording could have done with some work. Not entirely poetic and certainly a bit rich for her tastes but, still, nice to have that answered too. She'd had a good life and, while there were still a few of the really big questions left unanswered, most everything she considered important to her personally had been sorted out. Nice to now why you were going to die, just to keep things tidy at the end. Wouldn't want to go to her grave wondering, she thought and gave a gentle laugh in response.

The blue smoke danced around her and coalesced in to a large blue head. All scales and spikes, barely a discernible face, but it was becoming more coherent by the second. Fascinating. She returned to her journal. The scrawl was barely legible now but it would have to do; there was so much to say and she wanted to get down everything she could before... Anyway, no point being afraid now. Keep writing old girl and let those that are left behind do the rest. The readings would help, she thought, daring a glance at the little mechanical device that sat on her coffee table. The arm flashed back and forth, writing in a more fluid hand than her own. The paper churned out, lines up and down that told a tale that she hoped Sir Alistair and UNIT would be able to follow.

The head was sprouting a neck now...the neck elongating to form slim shoulders...the torso becoming clearer as the smoke swirled around the creature. Funny that; she'd expected batrachian, not serpentine. Hey-ho, if she hadn't learned not to make assumptions by now she never would. Really never would. "A blue, squamous body", she wrote her last words. The elongated head ducked down and stared at her. She looked up, holding its gaze, looking it square in the eyes. 'Well,' she said in a conversational tone, 'at least no-one will be able to say I had a boring death.'

* * *

'Hello! Mr and Mrs Jackson? Hello there?'

PC White rapped at the door again. He looked around, taking in the concerned expressions on the faces looking back at him. This was Neighbourhood Watch in action and he felt a little bit of pride swell in his chest when he thought about it. His father had been a copper and his grandfather before him. In those days - or so his father liked to remind him - there was a community and there was Community Policing. Well, today he'd have something to come back with. Last night someone had noticed some strange noises from their usually-quiet neighbours' house and the couple hadn't answered the door this morning. So they'd called him in. Good old East End neighbourly behaviour was how he'd describe it to his father when they met up in the pub later.

He banged at the door again, the old wood rattling in the frame. It wouldn't take much to force the door. The thought gave him pause. He hadn't expected this to be anything serious. The two of them were prone to keep themselves to themselves. Not that they weren't neighbourly but they were one of those sweet older couples who still adored each other after forty-odd years of marriage and didn't really need anyone else to make them happy. Now, though, the forcing the door in thing was looking a bit more likely. And the other members of the Watch knew it. They seemed almost excited about it. PC White pushed down on his concern and smiled at them.

'I'll just have a look round the back, see what I can see from there.'

'Oh I sent my Arthur round there this morning, Constable,' Mrs Jenkins said, 'Said you couldn't see nothing.'

'Still, I'll just have a look.'

He nodded at the inappropriately named Mrs Lively, having to shorten his stride while she manoeuvred herself out of his way. Then he was jogging round the corner and shouldering open the back gate. It was close to falling off its hinges and he had to grab at it to keep it upright. He carefully left it propped open and walked the few paces across the yard to the back window. The curtains were drawn. Even with his face to the glass, a hand shielding his eyes, her couldn't see more than a slither of the room beyond. He tried the back door halfheartedly. Something was wrong. He knew it. Copper's intuition, as his father would call it.

He returned to the front of the house to find another couple of woman had joined Mrs Jenkins and Mrs Lively. They looked at him expectantly. He lifted his radio and informed the station that he was going to enter the house. No to back up; surely that wouldn't be necessary? He told the women to stay back and had to hide his smile at their reluctance to do so.

'Give me some room then, ladies,' he said with false confidence.

He was suddenly aware of the very real possibility that the door wouldn't give as easily as he expected. He lined his shoulder up, took a good step back and charged the wood. It shook heavily in the frame. He shook heavily too. But it did give. The wood around the lock screamed in protest and the door shuddered open.

PC White staggered inside, only just managing to stop himself from falling on to the little hallway's wooden floor. He pulled himself up, rubbing at his shoulder vigorously. Bloody hell, that hurt more than he expected. He blinked in the semi-darkness of the hall. The doors off it were closed and the press of bodies in the doorway cut off most of the light from there.

'Easy there, ladies,' PC White tried again, 'Best you all wait out there until I've had a look around.'

He didn't bother to look back as he moved down the hall, knowing full well that the women would follow him in no matter what he said. He couldn't decide if they were hoping to find the Jacksons alive or dead. Dead would probably make a better story for the gossipy old dears. All these houses had the same layout, though plenty of them had been converted, updated and renovated in to oblivion. Not the Jackson's house; just the same as when they bought it. PC White tried the kitchen door first. Nice and neat, very clean, though there was a hint of ageing fruit in the air. That was a worry.

Backing out of the kitchen, PC White had to negotiate Mrs Lively again. Mrs Jenkins was at the parlour door. He raised his hand to stop her but it was too late. She was already pushing the door open and bustling inside before he could get his words out.

The scream was horrifying. He would never have believed that Mrs Jenkins could produce such a clear note. PC White wasn't sure where that thought came from but he would remember it to his dying day. Not because of the sound itself but because of what he saw immediately after he heard it. He manhandled Mrs Lively out of the way and pushed in to the parlour alongside Mrs Jenkins. There was no smell. He'd always remember that too. No smell and no blood. Not a drop. A blue slime, like kiddies' bubble bath but without that sickly scent they always had. A thin coating of blue slime over everything. The bodies. The room. But no smell and no blood. No blood at all.

Just the two bodies. Mr and Mrs Jackson. Lying side-by-side on the old, threadbare carpet. Not laid out the way an undertaker would do it but not sprawled out like those white outlines that American TV shows used so much. Just lying there. Their bodies almost touching. Their heads placed carefully on their chests.


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: The Lost Children (2/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

* * *

The doorbell rang. Rang again. And again.

Then the knocking started, a heavy slapping on the door.

Sarah Jane Smith marched out of her bedroom and down the stairs, cinching the belt of her robe as she went. Her hands were tight on the material, all her annoyance coming out through her fingers. She could barely breath by the time she reached the hallway. Could they get no peace? She and Luke had spent the entire night being chased, rounded on and generally run rings around by a very small and very unpleasant alien species that had hoped to make Earth its new home. They'd spent most of the early hours of the morning up to their ankles in boggy land, trying very hard not to think about exactly what they were walking through. And it had been a cold night too. Cold and long. All she wanted was a good lie in, a nice long sleep in warm, clean sheets. She'd even told Luke that he could have the day off school. She didn't like doing it but, really, how could he be expected to do any work after a night like that? Besides, Rani's father would make sure he caught up soon enough.

From upstairs she heard Luke stumbling out of bed. His door opened and his head came in to view over the bannister. 'Mum?' he said sleepily.

'Don't worry,' she shouted over her shoulder, 'I'll deal with this. You go back to bed, love.'

More knocking. And another ring. Now continuous.

The door flew open. Sarah Jane glared out.

At a small, thin woman. Anywhere between forty and sixty, Sarah Jane just couldn't decide. Very short, greying hair above a pale and drawn face. Sarah Jane stared in to the wide eyes that looked up at her eagerly. There was the look of someone who had just escaped from an institution about her and Sarah Jane took an involuntary step away from the door.

'I've just escaped from the loony bin,' the woman said in an Australian accent.

Sarah Jane stepped back again and made to close the door.

'No! Sarah Jane, it's me. Look! Tegan Jovanka. From Rassilon's Tower? With the Doctors - all bloody five of 'em!'

'Tegan?' Was it? Could this mad woman be that young woman who had been with the fifth of the Doctor's incarnations? Sarah Jane studied her carefully. Perhaps. She looked out over the woman's shoulders and saw the interested gaze of Rani's mother from across the street. Whoever this woman was, she knew about the Doctors so Sarah Jane needed to know more about her. 'You should come in,' she said, stepping back to wave the woman inside, then closing the door behind her. Sarah Jane led her to the kitchen and bustled about boiling water and finding cups.

'Oh, bless you.'

Sarah Jane handed over the steaming cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen table opposite the woman. Her expression wasn't especially mad, certainly not in the trying-to-take-over-the-universe way that Sarah Jane had seen more than once. She didn't look particularly badly treated either, just a bit too thin and a bit too pale. Her clothes were as grey as her face, the woolly cardigan was definitely not her look. But, under it all, there was that broad smile and those flashing eyes. Yes, Sarah Jane did recognise her. It looked like Tegan Jovanka had had a tough time of it lately but there was enough there to recognise the young woman she had met so many years before.

'How are you?'

The woman looked up and flashed a smile, 'How do I look?' Sarah Jane kept a careful silence. 'Yeah, thanks. Been a long night. Escaped just before midnight and I've had to walk most of the way. Bloody cold night too.'

'Yes,' Sarah Jane said with feeling, 'I know.'

'You out in it too?'

'There was a bit of a problem with,' she trailed off, 'Anyway, that doesn't matter now. Tell me what happened to you.'

'Oh, you know: said a few things that some people found a bit strange. Hence,' she flicked at the woolly cardigan.

'You talked about the Doctor so they locked you up?'

Sarah Jane watched Tegan carefully. There was a flicker of outrage, some anger, rounded off with a wry smile, 'Wouldn't you lock us up for talking about what we've seen?'

Sarah Jane shrugged. She had had a few close calls but the job had helped. She had immediately developed a reputation for tackling the, well, stranger types of story but people were willing to overlook quite a lot if they thought their name would be in the paper. Surely Tegan knew better than to talk? But sometimes, Sarah Jane had to admit, it wasn't that easy. It hadn't been easy for her, all those years before the Doctor came back in to her life and then Luke and the others. Melodramatic as it sounded, they'd saved her sanity; she was beginning to wonder how much more time she could spend in her own head. How much more time she could hold it all in. Could she really blame Tegan for letting some of it out?

'How did you find me? How could you possibly know about me?'

'Ah, well, you know - the voices told me.' There was a very long, very tense pause. Then Tegan was laughing so hard she had to put her coffee cup down. 'I'm sorry,' she waved a shaking hand before pulling it over her face, clearing away the streaming tears, 'I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist.'

'Yes, well,' Sarah Jane waited out the mirth, 'Setting the voices aside, how did you find me?'

There was an edge to her tone now, an even harder one, and Tegan straightened up, wiping her eyes again and forcing herself to calm down.

'I really am sorry, just a little asylum humour.' Sarah Jane accepted the apology with a nod and Tegan took a deep breath. 'I've been reading your work for a while. I'd thought it was you - the same Sarah Jane; you knew something that the rest didn't. Or didn't want to know. Can you believe the things human beings are willing to overlook?' Tegan shook her head sadly. 'Anyway, then there was all that business with the Earth changing location and the Daleks and everything. You've dealt with them before, haven't you?'

'I was there when they were created.'

Tegan studied her for a moment, 'Seriously? Jeez, rather you than me. Only met them once and that was more than enough. That was when I left the Doctor. The Daleks were my last straw. Fortunately, they decided not to trouble the freaks and crazies; never came anywhere near us this time. Anyway,' Tegan said firmly, getting herself back on track, 'after that - and all the BS that the politicians were coming out with - you wrote that piece. That thing about believing your own eyes and your own senses but not being overcome with the fear. You gave a quote, something a "very good friend of mine" had said. Well, he said that to me too. To us, Nyssa and me. Long time ago - though it might actually have been a long time to come. Funny how things get mixed up, isn't it?'

'Time travel does that to you.'

Sarah Jane was still watching her intently. Even if she hadn't recognised the woman, she would know instinctively that the Doctor had been in Tegan's life. There was something there, something intangible and indescribable but very definitely there. Something that Sarah Jane had finally realised in that moment when they all stood together against Davros. The Children Of Time. The Doctor's children. Tegan Jovanka was one of them, one of the lost children.

'You'd better tell me why you're here,' Sarah Jane said.

Tegan grimaced, 'Actually, that really does involve voices.'

* * *

Wilf Mott cast another concerned look at his granddaughter. She managed a smile in return but he could see through it.

'Don't worry, Sweetheart' he said, 'it'll be nothing. Bit of tinnitus, I bet.'

Donna Noble smiled at the one person in her life that she trusted completely. The one person she loved and would always love without reservation. He was lying to her. She knew it but she didn't know why. He'd been acting strangely for ages now. Ever since that skinny bloke had been to the house. He'd been upset after that and he'd been acting weird ever since. Especially with her. Still, Donna thought, when your granddaughter starts to hear bloody voices, you probably should look at her a bit funny. The really funny thing, the thing she hadn't even mentioned to her family, was how hot her head got when the voices started. Burning hot, like someone had lit a fire in her brain.

'Yeah. Yeah, of course you're right. Bit of whatsit in my ears. Nothing to bother about.'

'That's my girl. You know,' he grinned that old Grandad grin, 'I reckon I've got a touch of it too; keep hearing your Mother nagging at me.'

'Bloody 'ell,' Donna barked out a laugh, 'I've had tinnitus since I was born!'

They laughed together, not worrying about how false it sounded even to their own ears. They were just calming down, studiously ignoring the disapproving looks from the receptionist, when the Doctor's voice came over the tannoy and Donna stood to go in. Wilf took her hand, squeezing the fingers. She looked down at him and nodded. Whatever this was, she needed to find out. She had this odd feeling that, if she got this sorted out, all the rest of it would fall in to place. All the weird looks from her Mum; all the sad sighs from her Grandad; all the little moments lost and the big gaping holes that weren't really there. Get this sorted and it would all be OK.

'Won't be long, Gramps,' she leaned down and kissed his forehead, 'not when he's running this late.'

'I'm sorry, things are a bit chaotic around here still, what with the... Well, anyway. How can I help you Sarah Jane?'

Sarah Jane smiled up at Martha Jones. The young woman was besuited and professional but her smile lit up her serious face. Martha slipped in to the seat on the other side of the desk in her office at UNIT HQ. Doctor Martha Jones it said on the door and there was even a plaque on the desk.

'In case you forget who you are?' Tegan indicated the plaque with a smile.

Martha hesitated, her dark eyes taking in the stranger, but a glance at Sarah Jane eased her fears and she nodded, 'God knows I'm busy enough around here; some days I really don't know my own name. Talking of names..?'

'Martha Jones, meet Tegan Jovanka. Tegan, this is Martha Jones.'

Tegan stretched out to shake Martha's hand over the desk. 'You travelled with him too, didn't you?'

'Him?'

'The Doctor,' Sarah Jane said, 'Tegan travelled with the Doctor. A bit after me and in to the next regeneration.'

'Was with him quite a while. Saw a regeneration and everything.'

'Really. Oh.' Martha sat back, not sure what to say. The woman made her vaguely uncomfortable. There was a hint of something in her eyes that made Martha's defences go up. She'd seen that look before, seen it a few times on the late shifts in A&E. Seen it in the eyes of people who were strapped to the bed and taken away in very tight fitting garments. 'And how can UNIT help you, Miss Jovanka?'

'Tegan, please. No need to be formal. And it's how I can help you. I'm here to help us all.'

'Tegan was attacked,' Sarah Jane said. She could sense Martha's reserve but Tegan's story needed to be heard. If it was true, there were plenty of people who might be in danger - on Earth and perhaps even beyond. Besides, whether it was true or not - and Sarah Jane was beginning to believe that it was - Tegan obviously needed help. The poor woman shouldn't be locked up just for telling the truth. Even if the truth was significantly stranger than fiction.

'Too bloody right,' Tegan said, 'This big thing, sort of vague and shifting but strong - and dangerous. Only just got away.'

'And where were you when it attacked?'

Tegan hesitated and Sarah Jane spoke for her, 'The Keeley Hospital.'

'The,' Martha trailed off, 'Isn't that..?'

'Yes,' Tegan said.

Martha stared at Sarah Jane. It wasn't like her to fall for any old story, she must have heard plenty of them in her time. She obviously believed this woman, trusted her. Martha had to admit that there was something about this Tegan Jovanka. She hadn't realised it when she travelled with the Doctor but when, with Davros threatening the whole universe, they had all come together. Then she felt it. Felt the connection, the bond they had. Realised that there was some indelible mark that the Doctor left. Martha shifted in her chair. She really didn't like that idea. As much as she had loved the Doctor, as much as she had wanted him, that year-that-never-was had taught her a great deal about herself and her feelings. And it had given her a fair idea of the power that the Doctor possessed. Not just over her or this planet but over everything he touched.

'You weren't working there?' Martha asked hopefully.

'No, love.'

'Tegan's story needs looking in to. The thing, whatever it was, targeted Tegan. Because of her association with the Doctor.'

Martha's head came up suddenly.

Tegan held her gaze, 'Said I was "One of them, one of the touched ones, soiled by the Time Lord". Not a very pleasant thought all-in-all. Anyway. It definitely wasn't being friendly and it definitely wasn't just upset with me. Something's after us. All of us. I know it. And we have to do something about that before someone dies. Before one of us dies...or all of us.'

'Yes, yes,' Martha said. She considered the two women for a moment more. Just what she needed, a mad woman with a scary story. A scary story that might actually be true. She'd been in the States yesterday, flown back over night, arrived less than an hour ago. And now this? Vague, shifting creatures that might be after them all. Great. 'OK, here's what I'm going to do,' Martha stopped suddenly, 'Just how, er, quickly did you get away from the Hospital?'

'I scarpered. That thing was coming out of the walls at me but I'd come up with an escape plan years ago and it wasn't that difficult to get out in to the open. I just waited for the right moment and legged it.'

'I'd better have a word with them, smooth things over,' Martha said, 'I'll clear my schedule for the day and we'll talk again. For now, why don't you two stay here.'

* * *

Jack Harkness pulled the Land Rover to a halt outside the little terrace of houses. There were already two police cars and an ambulance was just pulling away. A couple of tense looking coppers held the nosey neighbours back. Jack pushed through them and nodded to the young WPC who made to stop him. He didn't need to show his ID, even here in London. There was some muttering from the locals and the WPC hissed something at them that didn't make any difference. Jack ignored it all and walked through the open door.

A middle-aged policeman was slumped against the wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide, his expression distant. Jack placed a hand on his shoulder as he passed by. The man didn't even blink. Another man, plain clothes and plain face, came out from one of the rooms off the hall. Jack straightened up, turning to stare at him.

'You'd be the Government bloke, I suppose. Bloody hell, I hope you're going to take this case out of my hands. No idea what's going on here. Who the hell would want to do this to a nice old pair like these two? It's true, the world is going bloody mad. Sick, that's what it is, sick.'

With that the man turned and walked back into the room. Jack followed him. It was a small, neat little parlour room. Pleasantly old fashioned. Jack had had a room like that himself only a few decades ago. It would have been entirely unremarkable but for the headless bodies. More of them, Jack thought with a heavy heart. More of them. He ducked down to study the couple closely. Same as the others. He'd seen this three times already since the middle of last night. An elderly couple, former teachers, who'd retired to a nice little place near Cardiff. Then a woman a little younger than them, also from London but now - formerly, Jack corrected himself - living in Gloucestershire. And now these two. A couple of sixty-something lovebirds; happily married for years, no bother to anyone. Was London the connection, Jack wondered. All of them with ties to London. Maybe? No, he shook the thought off; people didn't get their heads cut off and their blood drained just for the sake of living in London. Not even on a really bad day. It was something else. Something bigger. Bigger than location or age. He knew it - he just didn't know what it was.

He stood again, looking around the room without seeing the Detective or the photographer who was snapping away. No smell. No blood. Just that weird blue ichor and the headless corpses. Heads neatly lain on their chests. No obvious entry or exit points. No forced locks or broken windows. Everything locked up from the inside. Something already here? Something jumping in from...somewhere. Something caught Jack's eye in the corner of the room. At least it caught the corner of his eye from the corner of the room. Corners seemed to be important at the moment. Jack eased the Detective aside and ran his hand down the wall, close to the corner itself. He reached out his other hand and ran that down the wallpaper on the joining wall. He held both hands flat against the anaglypta, feeling the relief against his palms.

He sensed movement behind him and strained his neck to look at the DC. He had a disbelieving expression on his face. The photographer beyond him was failing to hold back his amusement. Jack flashed a bright grin at them and shrugged. He returned his attention to the corner of the room. The wall was getting hotter. Not burning but definitely increasing in temperature. Something was happening. No, Jack shivered involuntarily, something was coming.

He dropped his hands, spinning on his heels to face the startled detective. 'Get out of here. Get out of here NOW. All of you,' he shooed them out, bundling the DC and the photographer together, one hand on a shoulder of each. He pushed out in to the hallway and towards the door, 'Get out and stay out. Don't come back in unless I say so.' He cast a sympathetic smile to the PC propped up against the wall, 'You too. Go on, PC...?'

'White,' the DC spoke for him.

'OK, PC White, I need you to trust me that you don't want to be here. Go. Go on now.'

'What if you don't,' the DC hesitated, 'if you don't say so.'

'Ah, yes, good point. If I don't call you in within the hour, contact this number and ask for Doctor Martha Jones,' and Jack handed over a small business card.

The DC glanced at it, raising a brow in question. The card had only a number, nothing else. 'And who would she be?'

Jack was easing PC White out of the door. 'A friend. Don't come in here, just call her and wait.' With that he deposited the detective on the front step and slammed the door shut. It wouldn't lock but it didn't need to; he was fairly sure he'd made his point.

He returned to the parlour and ran his hands over the walls again. They had cooled slightly but they were warming again now. He had noticed it first at Ms Chaplet's home. He'd been called in directly from the Chesterton's place and had arrived not long after her death. The neighbours had reported a terrible screaming coming from her house. A WPC had been sent to investigate. She would be wearing the same expression as PC White for quite a long time to come. The walls were still warm there. Well, one corner was. Jack had felt a presence in the walls. No, behind the walls. No...beyond the walls. A presence that seemed reluctant to return with so many other people around. Perhaps being alone would encourage it out?

He took a deep breath and pressed his forehead to the wall, feeling the anaglypta's pattern pressing in to his skin. He waited. Waited. There it was. That strange gibbering that he had been sensing all night. Not hearing it really, more feeling it. Then blue smoke. The same blue as the slime that coated the bodies. It wisped out of the wall around his head. Coming from the corner. Coming from the angles. Jack closed his eyes.

'This is gonna hurt,' he said to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: The Lost Children (3/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

* * *

'I really did believe her.'

Martha rubbed Sarah Jane's arm sympathetically. She glanced back through the glass of the door. Tegan was lying on the bed in a small room off the Medical Wing. The machines around her were silent, only a single drip feeding in to her arm and that only because the woman was a little dehydrated. She was lightly sedated, dozing peacefully. Martha almost envied her.

'It's easy to believe someone who really believes what they're saying. Besides, given what you said, her story about the Doctor probably is true.'

'Oh yes,' Sarah Jane pulled her eyes away from the room, 'that part is definitely true; I met her. There was this,' Sarah Jane considered her words, 'incident with the Time Lords - back when they were still around - and five of the Doctors and quite a lot of us companions all had to join forces. Not that we had much choice in the matter.'

'Five Doctors. All together? Blimey.'

Sarah Jane managed a grin, 'That just about covers it.' Then her expression saddened again, 'But Tegan...the attack..?'

Martha shook her head, 'The Hospital insists that nothing happened to her. There was no altercation, no attack, no sign of any struggle at all. A couple of drops of some strange blue paint that they had to clean up but, other than that, nothing. She just managed to get out - even in the best run place that can happen. And the Keeley, well...'

'Not the best run place.'

'No. I'm having her transferred here for now and we'll move her on to somewhere more suitable later.'

Sarah Jane studied Martha's face carefully. She might be embarrassed about falling for Tegan's story but she wasn't a fool. She knew what UNIT could do with people, especially people who knew a little too much for their liking. Only her relationship with the Brig had saved Sarah Jane in the past. Tegan didn't have that luxury. But she did have Sarah Jane on her side.

'I won't let you hurt her. Or use her for any strange -'

Martha held up a hand to stop the older woman before she got in to full flow. 'I give you my word, Sarah Jane, she'll be safe here. I won't let anything happen to her. She's one of us. Whatever else she may think happened to her, she's our responsibility.'

'Actually, she's the Doctor's responsibility,' Sarah Jane said.

'Well, he's not here.'

'Well he should be.' Her tone was hard, the underlying anger she couldn't quite shake off was coming to the surface again. As much as she loved the Doctor - her Doctors and his later incarnation - there was that little ball of anger that wouldn't be assuaged, that couldn't be reduced by a beaming eye or a cocky smile. In this Davros had been right: the Doctor changed the people he took in to his life. Changed them forever - but not always for better. Tegan had suffered for that. Sarah Jane wasn't quite sure how or why but she knew it as certainly as she knew that the woman had spent time with the Doctor. She felt Martha's hand on her arm again and forced the anger down. She looked up in to dark eyes that radiated concern.

'I'm sorry, Martha.'

'Don't be sorry,' Martha's eyes darted back to the room, 'I'm as angry with him as you are. The things,' she trailed off with a sigh, 'It doesn't matter, does it? We survived. Survived and prospered - I hope - but we shouldn't assume that everyone would do that. At least a few of us have to pay the price I suppose. That poor woman.'

'I really did believe. Perhaps there's a little bit of fear, perhaps that's what it played on?'

'Fear that something will find us? Yeah, I've had that nightmare once or twice. Come on, let's go and sit down for a minute, she won't be awake for a while.'

They walked back to Martha's office and settled in to their chairs. Martha checked the small pile of handwritten notes that had appeared on her desk, then the emails that had arrived for her, then the reports awaiting her signature. Sarah Jane didn't envy her at all. The Brig had told her once that ninety percent of his time was spent doing the paperwork, the other ten percent spent cursing the paperwork. It rankled. He was a man of action, Martha was a fine Doctor; they should be doing what they did best, shouldn't they? But, then, how many other people could do this?

'You OK?'

Sarah Jane looked up to find Martha studying her closely. 'Fine, really,' she added, 'just...'

'Just?' Martha prompted.

'Are you happy here?'

Martha's eyes widened in surprise. Happy? Where had that come from? And was she? Happy? She hadn't really thought about it much. She'd dealt with her family's trauma after the Saxon thing; she'd dealt with the whole Tom Mulligan thing; she'd dealt with the job offer from UNIT; she'd dealt with New York and what happened after that. She'd dealt with lots of things - but her own happiness? She studied Sarah Jane carefully, buying time by moving some papers across her desk. She admired the older woman immensely. She was exactly what Martha wanted to be: capable, strong, able to deal with anything and everything. But maybe they both had something of the Tegan Jovanka in them. Maybe they weren't quite the survivors they seemed to be.

'I -'

But she didn't have time to say anything more. Alarms suddenly filled the air, Martha's computer screen lit up with alerts, her mobile phone buzzed urgently.

Martha and Sarah Jane were on their feet immediately. Martha ignored the alerts and ran for the door. A nervous Corporal was rushing in to find her and they almost collided at the entrance. Sarah Jane held back, watching the Corporal sketch out a salute. Martha grimaced at the gesture.

'Doctor Jones, Ma'am, something's happened.'

'Happened?' Sarah Jane said.

'Come on, Corporal,' Martha said, dragging the young man with her as she raced out of the office. Sarah Jane followed behind, pleased that she could keep up with them despite the difference in age. Martha snapped out her questions, 'Where, what, when, Corporal?'

'In the Medical Wing, Ma'am.'

Martha glanced back at Sarah Jane, 'Medical? OK, what?'

'Don't know, Ma'am, wasn't told. And about three minutes ago, though it came through the sensors without triggering our alarms.'

'What did trigger them then?' Sarah Jane asked.

He didn't need to answer. They'd reached the entrance to the Medical Wing. A wide foyer that branched off in to the wards and rooms beyond. Each had doors with plenty of glass. A few had blinds pulled down for privacy but most gave you a clear view through to what lay beyond. And what lay beyond in Tegan's room made Sarah Jane skid to a halt.

'The sensors didn't pick that up?' Martha muttered in disgust.

Sarah Jane felt the UNIT soldiers bustling in behind her. She was moving before she could think it through; one of the bad habits she'd learned from the Doctor. It was only when she was pushing the door open - Martha's shouted, 'Wait, Sarah Jane!' at her back - that she realised exactly what she was doing. Too late. 'Tegan?' she called out. The room was warm, the air coloured by a blue smoke. It was pouring out of the corner of the room, gushing now and forming some sort of creature. A long, swishing body that hung in the air as the smoke was drawn up in to it. The head formed and hung in the air while the body continued to grow beneath it. Sarah Jane stood, mesmerised by the creature. Something grabbed at her ankles and she felt her horror rise but couldn't look away from the swirling blue that seemed to be looking directly in to her soul.

'Sarah Jane!'

Tegan's hands yanked at her legs and Sarah Jane felt herself falling forward. She finally looked down, hearing the shouts coming from beneath the hospital bed. She threw herself down and felt Tegan's hands dragging her under the bed to lie on the cold, hard floor beside her.

'Are you crazy?'

'What is that?' Sarah Jane said.

'That's the thing that didn't attack me,' Tegan said, not bothering to hide her contempt.

It was still forming but there was a definite snake-like quality to the head and upper body. It writhed in the space above the bed. The elongated head ducked down and stared at them before shifting again and thrashing above them. The smoke still streamed from the corner of the room, the heated air becoming harder to breath, the room filling with a gibbering sound that came from far off and inside their minds at the same time.

'Mind you,' Tegan added conversationally 'it does look like something a loony would think up.'

Actually, now that it was forming in to a coherent shape, it looked like something else - something that was terrifyingly familiar to Tegan. Could it be? Could there be some connection? She didn't have time to consider it further and she was pleased about that. Until she really thought about what had interrupted her spiralling thoughts. The head had dropped down again. It was barely two feet away from them. They waited. It waited.

Then the gibbering turned to a scream that shook the room. The head was thrown back...the creature twisting and writhing...its body dissipating, returning to the blue smoke that rushed back to the corner of the room. Sarah Jane and Tegan didn't move. Their eyes barely blinking at they watched the creature finally disappear. The air cleared and immediately began to cool. The gibbering had gone, replaced by a long silence that was finally broken by Martha's voice.

'Sarah Jane? Tegan?'

The two women shifted under the bed, Sarah Jane getting a good view of army boots and Martha's low heels. She glanced at Tegan, getting a nod in response, then pulled herself out from under the bed. Gentle hands helped her up and she found herself looking in to Martha's worried face. She turned back, seeing the young Corporal helping Tegan to stand.

'Believe me now?'

Martha winced, 'I'm sorry. Do you know what that was?'

'Bloody scary, that's what it was.'

Martha led them out of the room. She and the Corporal guided them to another hospital room, this one with two beds. Tegan and Sarah Jane studied the corners suspiciously.

'How did you get rid of it?' Sarah Jane asked, pleased that her mind was finally returning to her.

'You mean you didn't?'

Tegan was off her bed again, striding for the door, batting away the Corporal's attempts to help her. 'I'll just wait outside for a bit. A few years should do it.'

'Tegan?'

'It came through the corners, didn't you see it? Both times, it came through the corners of the room. I'll be outside. No corners; no big scary monsters.'

Sarah Jane followed her, Martha and the Corporal in tow. Tegan didn't seem to care that she was barefoot and in a pair of thin scrubs, she just marched on. Sarah Jane shivered for her.

Martha came to her side, 'You OK?'

'A little shaken,' Sarah Jane managed a smile at the understatement, 'Have you ever seen anything like that?'

Martha shook her head, 'Never. I'm sorry, I should have believed her and we should have protected you both.'

'It tried to attack Tegan but failed and she got away. It tried to attack again but stopped. Why?'

Martha didn't answer. Instead she hurried forward to separate an irate Tegan from the UNIT soldier who was blocking her way out.

'It's alright, Sergeant, let her pass.'

He stepped out of Tegan's way and she ripped the door open to make it in to the fresh air. Sarah Jane and Martha followed, leaving the Corporal behind. Sarah Jane sucked in lungfuls of cool air. Tegan had propped herself up against the wall, huddled in to herself, her arms wrapped around her protectively. It had been bad enough the first time. Actually, it had been sort of fun the first time, in that breaking-the-tedium sort of way. It had been something to get her heart racing, something to spur her to finally use that escape plan. But the second time - not so much. Whatever this thing was, it meant business. Tegan began to shiver.

'I always wished I smoked after something like that,' she said.

'I always wanted a stiff whiskey,' Martha said.

Sarah Jane gave a bitter laugh, 'I just wanted to go home. Funny that I didn't want to leave when it came to it.'

'Do you miss -'

'Not on days like this!' Tegan interrupted Martha.

There was a long pause, then a stream of harsh, desperate laughter from all of them. They let the mirthless release play itself out, gasping for breath and propping each other up. It was a strange sort of camaraderie. Martha watched the older women. They'd travelled with the Doctor long before her, knew more than one incarnation, had seen more of his universe. One had thrived, one had suffered. But which one was which? And they couldn't be the only two. Only three, she corrected herself. Was Tegan the only one this creature was after or were they all in danger? Why hadn't she been attacked last night? She'd spent most of the night flying back from her meeting - was that it? Why hadn't Sarah Jane been attacked? Maybe Tegan was the first on the list. Just unlucky? Or because she'd seen something that they hadn't?

'Martha?'

Martha turned to find Sarah Jane and Tegan staring at her. She glanced around and saw Corporal Cross nearby. Apparently he'd been talking to her. 'I'm sorry, Cross.' He looked so young at the moment, Martha realised, and shaken. He stood straight though, his head high as he saluted her yet again. She'd told him endless times not to bother but he was that sort of a soldier. She forced herself to focus and said, 'What is it?'

'Ma'am, a message from General Bamber, another message from Sir Alistair and a call from a Detective Constable Phillips.'

Martha sighed. She turned to Sarah Jane and saw the fear building in her features. Sir Alistair? Oh, dear god. 'Sir Alistair first, Corporal.'

'Ma'am, he's been trying to contact you all morning. He asked that you join him with a UNIT team as soon as possible. He left an address.'

'Is he all right?' Sarah Jane asked.

'Sir Alistair?' Tegan said, 'Not Lethbridge-Stewart? They made him a Sir. Good for him!'

'You know the Brig?'

'Met two of him. At the same time,' Tegan said with a grin. It faded quickly, 'Oh. I see.'

'The address, Corporal?' Martha said.

'A cottage in Wenley Moor, Ma'am.'

'And what does General Bambera want?'

The Corporal glanced down at the papers that were pressed in to his palm. He reordered them and said, 'Ma'am, the General wanted you to be informed that the surveillance team on Donna Noble reported that she attended her GP this morning and has been -'

'Donna!' Sarah Jane interrupted him, 'My god, I hadn't even thought about her. She doesn't know that she knows him.'

Tegan made to say something but Martha held up a hand to stop her. Best to get this whole mess out in the open and then deal with the pieces. 'And the Detective, Corporal? What did he have to say?'

More rearranging of papers and this time the blushing Corporal read directly from the note as he said, 'He requested that Doctor bloody Martha Jones, whoever the bloody hell that might be, come to - an address in the East End of London, Ma'am - and sort out this bloody Harkness bloke who refuses to bloody answer and told them not to come back in.'

Tegan laughed, 'Bless the police, eh?' She glanced around to find that Sarah Jane and Martha weren't laughing at all. 'This Jack Harkness bloke, did he -'

'Yes,' Martha said in a low tone, 'yes he did. Sir Alistair, Donna Noble and Jack Harkness. All of them?'

'You need to go to Jack,' Sarah Jane said, seeing the responsibility weighing heavy on Martha's shoulders and trying to lighten the load. She turned back to the Corporal, 'I'll have that address from the Brig, give Doctor Jones the Detective's note. That just leaves Donna,' she glanced back to Martha.

Martha lifted her head, taking a long, slow breath while she got her rising panic under control. All of them? Six so far and how many more were out there that they didn't even know about? 'We can't let her see us; god knows what effect that would have?'

'Why not?' Tegan said.

Martha hesitated, 'Donna had the whole of the Doctor's mind, er, downloaded in to her brain.'

'Jeez.'

'Yeah. So, the Doctor sort of wiped it all out.'

'But he had to wipe out the rest of her memories of him too,' Sarah Jane finished for her.

Tegan considered that, 'So she doesn't remember travelling with him?' Both women shook their heads sadly. Tegan studied their faces as she asked, 'And what happens if she's reminded of it?' There was no response, just matching worried expressions. 'Right,' Tegan said, 'I'll go visit this Donna then. No, no, don't try and stop me. I know what's going on and I know a bit about his companions too. Just give me the Corporal and some decent clothes and I'll be off.'


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: The Lost Children (4/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

* * *

Tegan had insisted that they park around the corner from Donna Noble's home. She and Corporal Cross walked down the quiet suburban street trying to look inconspicuous. Tegan twitched at her new clothes. There had been a couple of female soldiers of about her built but they were both just a bit better fed. Or, Tegan had to admit, in better shape. So the jeans were a touch too big, the shirt a touch too loose. Nothing much, just not quite comfortable. The boots fitted well; good, stout army boots. She'd do her best to keep hold of them, so much more sensible than most of what she went around the universe in.

'Have you ever travelled up there?' she asked Cross with a jab of her finger skyward. He looked up, his eyes widening, and shook his head. 'Best and worse thing I ever did,' she continued, 'Saw some amazing things. And some awful things too. Met some incredible people. And lost them too. And, when you're back, you're left with the feeling that it doesn't really matter much what we do. Not down here. Not really.'

'Yes Ma'am' he said.

Tegan flashed a knowing smile at him, 'But you wouldn't mind finding out for yourself, would you? No, well, can't say I blame you. Still, maybe this Donna Noble was lucky; not remembering anything. Here we are.'

They stopped outside the house. There was a blue car on the drive but no obvious sign of someone inside. Tegan marched up to the door and rang the bell. She glanced at the Corporal as they waited. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt now but he still looked like a soldier.

'Relax,' she hissed just as the door opened.

A middle-aged woman looked down at them. She eyed them suspiciously. 'I don't buy anything at the door - including god, thank you very much.'

'Are you Mrs Noble?' The woman glared at Tegan but offered a nod in response. 'My name's Tegan and I used to travel with the Doct-'

The door slammed shut with enough force to rattled the frame. Tegan and Cross jumped back in surprise. Tegan cursed under her breath and stepped forward to bang at the door again. It opened before her knuckles had touched the uPVC. An old man peeked out. Tegan stepped back once more, giving him room to close the door behind him. He looked at them expectantly.

'You must be Mr Mott,' Tegan said, glad she had listened to the briefing before they left HQ, 'My name is -'

He waved his hands around, shushing her, 'Not here, love. The daughter, you know; not big on anything to do with the Doctor. It is the Doctor, isn't it? I knew he'd send someone round to help out. Good man that, lovely man. Now, what are you going to do about it?' He had led them to the end of the drive but he kept glancing back to the house nervously, 'What did the Doctor say, eh?'

'The Doctor didn't actually send me, Mr Mott; I've just come from UNIT.' He didn't need to know the whole story of where she'd come from. Tegan saw the disappointment cloud his features and reached out to hold his arm, 'Sir, can you tell me why Donna went to her GP this morning?'

'Voices,' Wilf said, 'she's been hearing voices.' Tears threatened the corners of his eyes but he rubbed them away and straightened up, 'Last night, she was out with her mates. Out for a drink, you know, nothing much just a girl's night and all that.' Tegan nodded and he continued,'So she comes back a bit early and she looked shocking. Really. Almost as bad as when,' his voice trailed off and he couldn't speak for a moment. He took a deep breath and continued, 'Anyway. She comes back, looking rough and, eventually, she tells me she's hearing voices. Started in the ladies of all places, when she went in there for a few minutes peace and quiet. Thought it was just some funny feedback from the music in the pub but it was the same when she got back. Worse even. She was scared, oh yes she was, but she's a strong one is my Donna; gets her coat back on and goes up to the old allotment and stares up at the sky. I've got a telescope up there. Saw her and the Doctor waving back at me one night. Super night that was. Lovely. Anyway,' he took another deep breath, 'these voices came back again when she got home so she said she was going to the doctors. Got in on an emergency. Didn't do anything, of course. All but said she was making it up. Gave her some of them bloomin' depression tablets and told her to take it easy for a few days. What sort of treatment is that, eh?'

Tegan knew a few things about how doctors - GPs and worse - treated "depression" but she kept the thoughts to herself. Instead, she said, 'Mr Mott, Donna isn't depressed. Or mad,' he looked up then, studying her face carefully, then gave a firm nod, 'but she may be in danger.'

'Danger?' he bristled again, anger flaring in him, 'What sort of danger?'

'Gramps? Gramps, everything OK?'

Tegan looked up to see Donna closing the front door behind her. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder as she hurried down the drive, hands trapped firmly under her arms. Wilf glanced at Tegan before turning a beaming face at his granddaughter.

''ello Sweetheart.'

'Here, who are these pair?' Donna said, her tone belligerent, 'Not here from the doctor's are they?'

'In a manner of speaking,' the Corporal said.

Tegan and Wilf glared at him and he muttered an apology.

'I ain't being sectioned,' Donna's hands came up, 'I'm not going to any loony bin. I ain't mad - just having some hearing problems, that's all. Maybe a bit depressed but not mad.'

'It's OK,' Tegan said, her hands raised in a soothing gesture, 'Really, we're not here to take you anywhere. Believe me, I wouldn't put anyone in an institution. We're friends of a friend of your Grandad. He asked us to come and talk to you. Have you been hearing the voices again?'

Donna stared at her for a long moment, barely breathing as she considered the woman. There was something a bit funny about her but not in a bad way. The bloke, he was a different matter. Pretty to look at but she wasn't sure about him. But the woman, yeah, Donna reckoned she could trust her.

'I'd rather talk to you, not him.'

Tegan said, 'Oh, he's just here to keep an eye on me; make sure I don't run off down the pub.'

'Now that's a good idea,' Donna said.

'Pub it is then,' Tegan said.

* * *

Martha was greeted by a very angry Detective Constable Phillips and a very interested group of spectators. She pushed her way through the cordon, flashing her badge at the flustered WPC who tried to stop her. DC Phillips waited for her to get to him, propped up against the bonnet of a police car. He glared at her.

'Doctor Jones, I presume?'

'Yes. Where is he?' Phillips indicated the mid-terrace. Martha waited for more but he said noting. 'Anything I should know?'

'He said to call you if he didn't come out within the hour. He didn't. I've got two headless corpses in there and some very frightened locals. And I have no bloody idea who the bloody hell you actually are.'

'Headless? What the hell happened here?

He stood up slowly, 'You mean you don't know?'

'No clue. Until you actually tell me,' Martha let a little bit of her anger show through.

'Couple in their sixties. Not up and about this morning, some funny noises from the house last night. PC White goes in there to have a look and, well, he'll be pensioned off by the end of the month, mark my words. I get here, barely taken a bloody look when the call comes through; some Government bloke's on his way so don't touch anything. Like I don't know how to run a bloody crime scene! Anyway. He says -'

'Call me, yeah. OK. Keep everyone back. And don't come -'

'In unless you tell me to. Yes, love, I've heard that before. Who the bloody hell are you lot anyway?'

Martha ignored the question. She ran back to the Land Rover and ducked inside. There were three armed UNIT personnel inside but she ordered them to stay there. They weren't visible through the darkened glass and it was best they stayed that way. She pulled a medical kit out with her and jogged to the front door. It wasn't locked, the door shifted as she approached it. She glanced round, seeing two dozen faces watching her actions intently. Just great. She pushed forward, shouldering the door open and stepping inside. Glancing in through the open doors it only took a moment to find Jack. He was lying on the floor beside two bodies. All three bodies had their heads placed carefully on their chests. There was no sign of a struggle, not a drop of blood. But there was a blue slime over the bodies and most of the room. The same blue as the smoke that had filled Tegan's room.

The other two bodies were still but Jack's body twitched and shifted in what looked like panic. 'Oh Jack,' Martha said, rushing to his side. She grabbed one hand and squeezed it, ignoring the blue goo that coated her fingers. The body stilled for a moment before beginning to twitch even more. Their linked hands jerked around madly. Martha shook her hand free and reached for his head. This was something they'd never taught her at medical school. She took a firm hold of Jack's head, one hand on each side, her fingers wrapping around his ears. She picked his head up, moving it slowly until it was above his shoulders. She tilted the head and lay it on the floor, the severed neck pressing in to the gaping hole.

She checked the alignment once more, pushing the head forward. The body twitched again and she hissed, 'Stay still you fool!' She wasn't sure if he could possibly have heard her but the body did still it's furious movements. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and waited. The head twitched a little in her hands but Martha refused to open her eyes again. A strange buzzing energy raced up her arms, setting her teeth on edge. A bright light shone through her eyelids. She held on and waited.

'You can look now,' Jack's voice said.

Martha felt the tug at her hands as he sat up and finally opened her eyes. He was just sitting there in front of her, beaming that cocky grin.

'You OK now?'

Jack turned his neck sharply, the bones cracking so loudly that Martha jumped. 'Oh yes, thank you very much Martha Jones,' he jumped to his feet, 'Fine and dandy.'

Martha took his offered hand and stood up beside him. She felt both fascinated and repulsed; not an unfamiliar feeling to anyone who had worked with Torchwood. She'd never liked that feeling. Jack was watching her so she shook it off and focused on him. His grin got even wider and he opened his mouth to tell her what was going on.

'Something big and blue and sort of snake-y came through the corner of the walls and killed them,' she got in first.

He looked crestfallen for a moment, then impressed, then terrified. 'Who else has been attacked?'

* * *

Sarah Jane jumped down from the helicopter with half a dozen armed UNIT soldiers close behind. She really hated guns. It had been difficult to keep her eyes off them during the flight. Especially when she was patched through to 13 Bannerman Road to tell Luke that everything was OK and he wasn't to worry. Thank god he'd never travelled with the Doctor, never even met him in person. That would be enough to keep him safe, wouldn't it? Just in case, she'd told him to get out of the house if he heard any sort of voices or if blue smoke started to come out of the walls. Her son now officially thought she was crazy but better that than she lose him. Just the thought made her heart ache. She'd lost so much, so many good people in her life. She would do anything she had to do to keep that precious boy safe.

They had put down on scrubby land off to the side of the little cottage. It sat on its own in the wild moorland, only a dirt track leading to the courtyard outside the ramshackle old place. There was a little kitchen garden but it didn't seem to be growing very much. Sarah Jane hesitated as the UNIT soldiers fanned out around her, those damn guns raised. The leader waved the others on and they took a few steps beyond her. Sarah Jane wanted to yell at them to put the things down and let her go inside but she knew they wouldn't listen. Why had the Brig requested a team like this?

'I had rather hoped for a clean up team,' Sir Alistair's bemused voice preceded him. He stepped out from the back of the cottage, his hands carefully held above his head, one dangling his walking stick, and walked across the courtyard. Sarah Jane grinned at him and rushed forward, ignoring the nearest soldier who tried to hold her back. 'I say, Sarah Jane, have you joined up?

She barrelled in to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, 'No I most certainly have not,' she pulled back and jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the soldiers, 'They said you'd requested an armed team.'

'Ah, well,' he shook his head sadly, 'that will be General Bambera; she generally assumes the worst. Particularly where I'm involved. Now, my dear, what are you doing here?'

He held up a hand to wave the men in with them, then offered his arm to Sarah Jane to lead her towards the cottage.

'Do you remember Tegan Jovanka? You certainly met her at Rassilon's Tower and she says you'd met before that too.'

'Good heavens. Definitely met her with all those Doctors but before that...? I don't think so. Pretty little Australian girl, yes? Talked an awful lot. Anyway, what about her?'

'She came to my home early this morning. Claimed to have been attacked -'

'Ah,' he gave a long sigh.

'- so I took her to see Martha Jones.'

'Oh, yes, I've been looking forward to meeting her. Quite a remarkable sort, by all accounts.'

'Yes she is.' Sir Alistair raised an amused brow and studied her. 'What?' Sarah Jane said, becoming defensive, 'What are you looking at me like that for?'

'Oh nothing, my dear. I hear she's rather lovely too,' he added in a deliberately vague tone. Sarah Jane glared at him and he relented, raising his hand in mock surrender, 'Not that either of us would ever notice such a thing. Just ignore the old man.' He watched Sarah Jane's face carefully, saw the twitch of anxiety and realised that it wasn't Doctor Jones she was worrying about. He patted her shoulder gently, 'Have you heard anything of Doctor Song? She is somewhat of an expert time traveller herself from what you've said in the past.'

Sarah Jane looked stricken for a moment but visibly shook it off, 'Yes but she knows how to take care of herself. Besides, I don't think she's ever actually met the Doctor. Anyway,' Sarah Jane said firmly, 'Back to Tegan, I'm ashamed to say we didn't really believe her.'

'Until she was attacked by something nasty that came through the walls.' Sarah Jane stared up at him. 'I'm afraid I was somewhat disbelieving too. And it's cost the life of another really rather remarkable woman. Foolish of me - when will I learn?'

'Liz Shaw?' Sarah Jane prompted.

'Yes, yes. Doctor Liz Shaw. She worked with the Doctor a great deal, back when he was confined to quarters, as it were. Only for one year, though; not too keen on all that madness so she had the good sense to get out. Went back to academia. Wrote all sorts of wonderful papers, by all accounts. I hadn't heard anything of her for a long time. Certainly hadn't expected to find out that she'd bought old Quinn's place,' he tilted his head towards the cottage, 'Odd choice, all things considered. Anyway, I'm loosing my thread here, aren't I? Back to business. Doctor Shaw contacted me yesterday and suggested that something unpleasant might be about to happen to anyone who had had contact with the Doctor. Preposterous, of course - and I told her so.' Sarah Jane rubbed his arm, trying to ease the look of pain that crossed his face. Sir Alistair patted her shoulder again as he continued, 'Should have listened, of course; these science types always know better than an old soldier like me. Had another call last evening. Bit more insistent, if you catch my drift. Drove up early this morning. Too late, I'm afraid.'

They were at the door now, standing slightly ajar as Sir Alistair had left it. They stood in silence for long moments, still holding on to each other.

'Blue smoke, blue goo and a dead body?' Sarah Jane said.

'You've seen this?'

'It attacked Tegan again at UNIT HQ.'

'That poor girl's dead?'

Sarah Jane squeezed his arm again, 'No, no. For some reason it just stopped. The smoke went back again. No idea why.'

'Now that's interesting. I've had a quick peek through Doctor Shaw's notes and she has some remarkable ideas about how to deal with these things. Even sketched out a machine to call to them and had some other thingamabob taking readings when she died. Hoped she'd come up with a way to get them all together; deal with them with one cannonade, so to speak. She seems to have been quite annoyed with herself that she couldn't find a way to bump them off,' Sir Alistair said, staring at the door unseeing. He came back to himself, 'But you haven't actually seen the,' he hesitated, 'end results, so to speak?' Sarah Jane shook her head. 'Ah, then you'd better brace yourself, Sarah Jane; it's really rather unpleasant.'


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: The Lost Children (5/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

* * *

Blimey but this woman could talk. And people had always said that she was a gob on legs! Tegan set that thought aside and refocused on Donna's animated face. She'd been going for half an hour solid. Tegan wasn't certain that the woman had drawn breath. She'd talked about the night before, about her friends, about how busy the doctor's surgery had been. Everything but the voices. No mention of blue smoke either. Tegan waited it out, pleased to be in a real pub with real beer - well, British beer - and real people. Real as in not certifiable. Though she wasn't one hundred percent sure of Donna Noble at the moment. She'd definitely travelled with the Doctor, Tegan decided; aware of that indescribable something that gave it away. But Tegan was also certain that she had no idea what she'd done and where she'd been. Anyone who had travelled the universe in a Tardis with a Time Lord would not be giving such a detailed account of "my friend Tonia's varicose veins". Tegan had been locked up for twelve years and she had more interesting conversational topics. What had the Doctor done to this poor woman?

'Here, your boyfriend's back,' Donna said.

Tegan turned to see Corporal Cross ducking in to the lounge room. He spotted them in the far corner and hovered in the centre of the room. Tegan rolled her eyes at Donna by way of excusing herself and joined him.

'What now?' He swallowed hard. That couldn't be a good sign. 'Well, out with it!'

'Ma'am, I've just had word from Doctor Jones; General Bambera has got word of what we're doing here. The General has ordered an extraction team to bring Miss Noble in.'

'An extract-' Tegan began but stopped short, realising how loudly the words had come out. She got herself under control, glancing back at a startled Donna and offering her a reassuring smile. She turned back to the Corporal and hissed, 'What the hell are we supposed to do now?'

'Officially? We're to keep her here until the team arrives.'

Tegan's respect for the man went up a notch, 'And unofficially?'

'Doctor Jones suggests a tactical retreat.'

Tegan grinned at him, slapping his arm and turning back to find Donna had disappeared. She looked around with rising panic until Cross indicated the other side of the room. Tegan followed his gaze and saw Donna heading for the door in the corner. It had a sign above that read "Toilets".

'Oh that's just great,' Tegan muttered but she smiled and nodded at Donna as the redhead mimed her need to use the facilities. Tegan grabbed for Cross' arm as soon as Donna was out of sight. He jumped but she kept a firm grip and yanked his wrist so she could read his watch. 'How long will it take this team to get here?'

'Not long, Ma'am.'

'Any ideas where we should re-'

A scream interrupted her. Tegan and Cross took a few steps forward, hesitated, then ran for the door. Cross shoulder charged it, Tegan ducking in behind him before the door could ricochet off the wall. It was a narrow corridor between the two bars. The barman had stepped out from behind the lounge bar and was looking at them with interest. Cross flashed his ID and told the man to get back. Tegan ignored him and looked down the corridor in the other direction. There were two doors, each with stick figures declaring who should use which. Tegan ran towards them. She was close to the Ladies when a blinding flash of white-hot light exploded from the door. It flew open, the hinges squealing as they gave The light radiated out, catching Tegan full in the body. It lifted her off her feet and slammed her against the wall. She only had a moment to hear the shout from Corporal Cross before her head made contact and she slumped to the floor.

* * *

Martha slammed the door of her Land Rover shut, rounding the bonnet to meet Jack as he got down from his own. There was already one of the oversized vehicles in the pub car park. Three huge, black "unmarked" Land Rovers. Very subtle, Martha thought. She cast Jack a worried look before glancing back at the darkened windows of her Land Rover and indicating that the men within stay where they were.

'I like this Tegan woman's style,' Jack said with a tilt of his head towards the pub's entrance, 'Going straight to the boozer.'

'Cross said Donna was scared and Tegan suggested they have a drink to keep her calm.'

'Hey,' Jack raised his hands, 'I'm all for it. How long do you think before your General gets here?'

'Not long,' Martha said, 'and she's not my anything.'

They walked towards the entrance, ignoring the startled look of an inebriated man as he tumbled out of the door. Jack grinned at the man and he grinned back. The grin turned lecherous when he moved his focus to Martha and that earned him a glare. He burped loudly and ambled off.

'Nice,' Martha muttered.

She was a few paces from the door when the pub's etched windows flared with a bright light. The ground shifted slightly beneath their feet and Jack reached out to grab at Martha's arm. She shook him off, already running for the door, yanking it open and flying inside. The few patrons were staring around them in shock, blinking hard against the after-effects of the light. The barman stumbled in from the corridor beyond the bar. He rubbed hard at his eyes, noticed Jack and Martha and waved them to the door in the corner of the room.

'Back there!'

Martha followed his outstretched hand, seeing the door still rattling on its hinges and running for it. Jack was close behind her, his longer arms reaching out to push at the door from above her head. They barrelled in to the corridor to find Corporal Cross at Tegan's side. She was slumped against the wall, body crumpled.

'Oh no,' Martha said. She ran to Tegan, pushing Cross out of the way and checking for a pulse.

'Where's Donna Noble?' Jack said to Cross. His tone was firm and the Corporal stood immediately, fingers pointing to the Ladies as his back straightened to attention. 'OK, get those men in here and call for medical back up. Now!'

Cross scurried off. Jack glanced down at Martha but she was intent on her patient. He shouldered what was left of the door open and stepped in to the toilets. The place was coated in the blue slime that had been present at all of the crime scenes. This was much thicker though, inches thick in some places, dripping down the walls, oozing. And there was a smell. Boy was there a smell. Jack waded through the stuff, face creased in disgust. Donna was lying in it. Her head and upper body were out in the narrow space between the toilets and the washbasins. Her legs were partially inside what was left of one of the cubicles. The door was shattered, nothing but firewood scattered around her body, and most of the walls had gone the same way.

'Oh, Donna, in the loos?'

Jack rushed to her side, ignoring the stench and the sucking mess that soaked in to his trousers and coat. He reached out a gentle hand to touch her face - and yanked it back immediately. She was burning up. Not the usual bit-of-a-fever burning; she was too hot to touch. Jack spared a moment to smile at how much the Donna Noble he had met would like that description. Then he was leaning forward again, his fingers barely able to skim across her fiery skin. He steeled himself and pressed his fingers to her throat. After a few seconds, he snatched his hand back, shaking it, blowing on his fingers.

'Jack?' The door opened behind him and Martha stepped inside. 'Oh my god,' she gasped, slapping a hand to her face against the foetid air. Her voice was muffled as she said, 'What the hell happened here? Jack, is she alive?'

'There's a pulse. Surprisingly strong. But, Martha,' he turned to her, 'she's seriously hot. Like gone nuclear hot.'

Martha forced her legs to carry her further in to the stinking room. They refused to bend and she stared down at Donna for long moments. Jack waited, watching her eyes take in the mess before they returned to Donna's prone form. Martha shook herself out of the horror and focused again. She finally dropped down to her haunches and reached out a tentative hand. She couldn't get close enough to Donna's skin to take her pulse. Jack held up is hand, waving his burnt fingers.

'What the hell happened here?' Martha repeated.

'I'd like to know that too,' the voice boomed from behind them.

Martha winced, not bothering to turn towards the speaker. Jack craned his neck, a rakish grin coming to his face as he waved his burned, blue-covered hand at the newcomer.

'You must be General Bambera. Captain Jack Harkness, Ma'am.'

* * *

'Need I remind you, Doctor Jones, that sending civilians in to dangerous situations is entirely contrary to UNIT protocols?'

No, you stupid woman, you don't need to remind me, Martha screamed in her head. She said, 'No, General.'

'I'm fine, General, really,' Tegan spoke up.

The fact that she winced at every word worked against the claim. Martha winced too. In part because she had been responsible for sending Tegan in to that situation and in part because she knew all too well what a good bang to the head felt like. God, she'd screwed this up. The General was right. She'd let her emotions rule her and she'd made a really stupid decision, one that could have cost Tegan her life. Tegan and Donna Noble. Donna was in the Medical Wing now, heavily sedated. Three UNIT counsellors were doing their best to keep her mother quiet in the waiting room and no-one could even look poor Mr Mott in the face. Martha had no idea what had happened to his granddaughter.

Tegan should have been in a hospital room too but she had refused anything more than a couple of painkillers and a bandage. Martha studied her as closely as she could from the other end of the conference table. She had a suspicion that Tegan was actually enjoying all this. Maybe she wasn't as sane as she claimed? Or was that the inevitable consequence of life after the Doctor? Sir Alistair and Sarah Jane had just waltzed in to Doctor Shaw's cottage. And Jack - Jack bloody Harkness - had voluntarily had his head cut off and waited for her to come and put it back on for him. Something she'd done without a second's thought. They were all mad! No wonder General Bambera was looking at them like that.

The General was a tall woman with all the bearing that her rank implied. She had a fearsome reputation and she'd earned every bit of it. She had even met the Doctor, though she refused to discuss the matter and the files were classified beyond even Martha's clearance. Martha did respect the General. She admired her dedication and her record but she just couldn't like the woman. Too...military. Bambera was everything that the Doctor hated about UNIT. Which was exactly why Martha had tried to access those files; she dearly wanted to know what happened between the two of them. Something just short of a nuclear explosion, Martha guessed. She glanced over at Sir Alistair and realised that he felt the same way about his former colleague. He'd been involved in that incident at Carbury too - maybe she could persuade him to tell her? No, probably not. He was as dedicated to UNIT in his own way as Bambera was in hers and he'd never disclose classified information.

Martha looked around the rest of the table. Bambera at the head with Sir Alistair at her right; Sarah Jane next to him with Jack, now mercifully in clean clothes, next to her on the opposite side; Tegan and poor Corporal Cross were on the other side with Martha as far away from Bambera as she could get. Not that she would shirk her responsibilities. No, she'd take her lumps when it came to it. All that Martha hoped was that she would be allowed to remain a part of the investigation until it was over.

She got her wish as a reluctant Bambera said, 'Well, we'll deal with this issue later, Doctor Jones, for now there appears to be a more pressing matter at hand. Now,' and she dropped in to her seat, 'What the hell is going on here, people?'

'Ah, well, General -'

'You see, the thing is -'

'It seems to be -'

Sir Alistair, Jack and Sarah Jane all began at once. Tegan winced again but Martha wasn't sure if that was from the loud voices or Bambera's reaction. She was livid, her face clouding in to a stern expression that spoke more loudly than all the voices together. They all stopped at once and looked back at her with varying degrees of discomfort. Bambera took advantage of their attention on her and looked each one of them in the eye. Her gaze lingered on Martha, then returned to Sir Alistair. A faint nod said everything she needed it to.

'General Bambera, thank you,' Sir Alistair said, 'A former UNIT consultant, Doctor Liz Shaw, died last night but not before she had left detailed records of her studies in to a force that she referred to as the Tindalos.' He continued before anyone could interrupt him, 'Ancient creatures that seem to have a rather intense dislike for time travellers. Or, it would appear, anyone with more than a passing acquaintance with a certain time traveller. A UNIT team is examining Doctor's Shaw's notes as we speak.'

Bambera acknowledged him with another nod, then turned to Jack. He shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter before he said, 'Ma'am, I was called to a house in Wales last night after an elderly couple had been murdered - or so the Police thought - having been decapitated. Another call came in an hour later, a woman in Gloucestershire. Then another couple in London. All the same MO but no other apparent connections.'

'The Doctor?' Bambera said.

'We're working on that assumption, Ma'am.'

'And you, Miss Jovanka, have been attacked twice and still lived to go to the pub?'

Tegan grinned, apparently unaffected by Bambera's glare, 'First time in the Keeley, then here.'

'How did you survive? That thing was ruthless; it just went straight for my head,' Jack said. He rubbed at his neck, 'Straight for the head.'

'I don't know. Definitely no blinding lights that throw you against the wall, though - I can tell you that. And, if it went straight for your head, how did you survive?'

'Hey,' Jack smirked, 'Jack Harkness never looses his head for long.' There was a general sigh around the table and Jack's grin grew wider, 'Oh, come on,' he began but Bambera cut him off.

'And what exactly happened with Miss Noble?' Everyone stared at the General. She waited. With a twitch of irritation, she said, 'It would appear that either Miss Jovanka or, more obviously, Miss Noble hold the key to defeating these,' she glanced back to Sir Alistair, 'Tindalos. I want to know what that key is and I want to be ready to use it before these things attack again.'

'Are you suggesting we weaponise Donna Noble?' Sarah Jane said in disgust.

'I'm not sure I'd have worded it in quite that way, Miss Smith, but yes, if necessary, we use Miss Noble to defeat this threat before these things get a taste for more than just the Doctor's old pal's club.'

And with that Bambera was on her feet and striding out of the room. She didn't look back, despite the six sets of eyes on her back. Martha turned back to see Sarah Jane's fury burn itself out in to a cold anger that tightened her jaw.

'I kinda like her,' Jack said.

'Shut up Jack,' Martha said

'Jeez, sorry,' he rolled his eyes, 'just cuz you're in the doghouse.'

'Shut up Jack,' Sarah Jane barked. 'Now,' her balled fists dropped to the table top with a thud, 'what are we going to do about this?'

'Er,' Corporal Cross gave an embarrassed cough, 'Are we even sure there's more of them? Maybe Miss Noble killed the only one?'

They all looked at him with varying degrees of pity, marvelling at his naivety.

'There's always more than one of these things,' Tegan said bitterly. Cross muttered an apology and looked down at the table. Tegan patted his arm in sympathy.

'Doctor Shaw was quite specific on these Tindalos being in the plural,' Sir Alistair said. 'Now, let's start with why we're still alive, shall we?'

Sarah Jane spoke first, 'I was out all night, in the middle of a field - no corners.'

'And I was at a crowded club until the first call came in,' Jack said.

'I was flying home from,' Martha hesitated, 'somewhere.'

'I was escaping from a loony bin.'

'And I was driving up to poor Doctor Shaw's house,' Sir Alistair answered his own question.

'So none of us was at home, alone, in a place with lots of corners,' Jack said.

'Unlike now,' Corporal Cross lifted his head and studied the walls carefully.

'Yeah but you're here, Soldier Boy,' Jack winked at him, 'And these attacks don't seem to happen when any non-time travellers are present.'

'You hope,' Martha said.

'I hope,' Jack acknowledged with a grin.

That left them mired in silence for a while, each of them surreptitiously glancing around them. But nothing came through the walls, no blue smoke, no slime. The tension faded a little and nervous grins overtook stern expressions.

'So, really,' Tegan said to Jack, 'how come you're still alive?'

'Don't ask,' Martha said. 'OK, listen, something saved Donna. Something flared up and burned this Tindalos thing.'

'But it didn't burn Donna,' Sarah Jane said.

Jack waved his bandaged fingers, 'She got damned hot, that's for sure.'

'The Doctor?' Sir Alistair offered, 'Some sort of defensive mechanism? With everything I've heard about this poor young woman, I can't believe the Doctor would just leave her to the mercy of anyone who wanted to harm her.'

'So she really is a weapon?' Jack said, intrigued.

'Don't say that,' Sarah Jane said through clenched teeth.

'And what about you, Tegan?' Jack flashed a grin at her, 'You've survived more than any of us.'

Tegan shifted uncomfortably under the stares of the whole room. Even after all those group sessions, she still hated being stared at like that. It was a valid question though. She had a nasty suspicion that she knew the answer too. God, she hoped she was wrong. But it would explain a few things. Explain them in an even more terrifying way. There was another explanation. A much more pleasant one but even more far fetched. No, she thought sadly, when in doubt always go with the scarier of the two options.

'Tegan?' Sarah Jane said.

'Tegan?' Martha repeated.

They all waited as she came back to herself, visibly shaken. Tegan jerked her head violently, slashing at her face with her trembling fingers as tears threatened to fall. 'Did poor Doctor Shaw say anything else about these Tindalos? Anything about what they,' Tegan swallowed, 'are made from?'

'Made from?' Sir Alistair glanced around the room, confused, 'Made from in what sense, my dear?'

'Well, it's just a thought but I did have a couple of run-ins with the Mara while I was travelling with the Doctor.'

'The Mara? Seriously?' Jack said. Everyone else stared at him rather than looking at Tegan's barely-controlled emotions. He shrugged, glancing back at her before speaking to the others, 'The Mara. Pure hatred personified. Not the nicest things in the universe. They possess their victims, feeding off their fears.'

'Any relation to these Tindalos?' Sarah Jane said.

'Could Tegan's...association,' Martha said as delicately as she could, 'be giving her some sort of natural immunity?'

Jack shrugged, 'No idea. But, jeez, the Mara? Twice? Tegan, you are one seriously strong lady right there.'

Tegan managed a watery smile, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. She'd never thought of it that way. She'd always been deeply ashamed of her weakness, ashamed of putting her friends and so many others in danger. She had been weak, hadn't she? Useless. Needing to be rescued twice over from creatures that she thought she had rid from her mind after their first encounter. But strong? Was she? She had survived. Twice. She'd lived with the nightmares, lived with the knowledge of what pure evil was. What it felt like to have it living deep inside you. She'd survived that. OK, she'd spent the last dozen years in a hospital with really big locks on the doors but that wasn't because of the Mara; she'd never even mentioned the Mara. Not even in the depths of her despair. Never once had she told any of those so-called doctors what those creatures had done to her. But she had survived. Yes, she had. She was a survivor. Twice over. Four times now. And if those last two times were because of some lingering taint? Was that better or worse than being a victim? She wasn't a victim; she was a survivor. Yes, she bloody well was. She liked that. Maybe this Jack bloke wasn't such a wanker after all.

They all watched as Tegan came back to herself once more. Her face was set in a serious expression, serious but no-longer afraid. Her back was straighter, head held higher. Confidence filled her eyes.

'Remarkable,' Sir Alistair said, shaking his head in wander, 'Quite remarkable. Now then, the question is what are we going to do about it? Is Miss Noble the answer,' he held up a hand to stop Sarah Jane before she could offer her opinion on that, 'or is there another way?'

'Let's see what the research boys have come up with,' Martha said, 'then we'll come up with a plan.' I hope, she added silently.


	6. Chapter 6

TITLE: The Lost Children (6/6)  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: (not yet)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I only borrow them for short periods.  
SUMMARY: Something is attacking the Children Of Time.  
CHARACTERS: Sarah Jane, Martha, Tegan, Jack and others.  
CREDIT: Long and Lovecraft for the use of the creatures.  
CONTINUITY: Post-Journey's End, pre-End Of Time. References numerous classic and new Who stories as well as my _Not In Chronological Order_ story.

NOTE: There will be fics dealing with some of the off-Earth companions and there will be more stories following on from this one.

* * *

Jack was scrunched up over a laptop at a table in the middle of the little room. It was somewhere between a mess and a locker room; a rec room for UNIT personnel who found themselves on-base unexpectedly. There was just one other person in there. Each of them had a UNIT handler, there to ensure that no-one was left alone. The young soldier looked bored rigid, though he was trying to entertain himself with a magazine. He was slumped in the far corner of the sofa that sat in the far corner of the room, trying to look inconspicuous and succeeding remarkably well. There could have been a dozen people in there with Jack, though, or no-one at all; he wouldn't have noticed. He didn't notice when Sarah Jane came in, waving her own handler away at the door and nodding her greeting to the young man. She studied Jack's hunched back for a while, listening to his muttered curses. He was cocky and brash; he liked big guns and big gadgets; he was sexual in a way that she'd only ever witnessed once before. That thought made her smile. She'd loved it in River but, in anyone else, she generally disliked it. In Jack? He was just Jack and you couldn't get away from that.

'You OK?' he said.

Sarah Jane started, her head coming up to find him looking at her, a grin on his face but understanding in his eyes. Sarah Jane felt that she shouldn't like this man - but she did. She nodded slowly, lifting a hand to rub at the back of her aching neck. Bambera had refused to let any of them off-base overnight so she'd spent the time failing to sleep. Two nights of worry and exhaustion and she was ready to drop. Maybe she was getting too old for all this?

'Here,' Jack said, standing from the table, 'let me help you with that.'

He raised his hands, pointing to her neck and Sarah Jane realised what he was offering. 'Oh no, thank you very much,' she skipped out of his reach, 'I've heard stories about Captain Jack Harkness.'

His grin stretched wider, 'And they're all true. Seriously, come here, let me help you.'

'No. Thank you,' she added, 'but I'm just fine.'

'Really? The bunks in this place are criminal,' he said with feeling, 'I gave up trying to sleep before midnight.' He sat back down again and glanced at the laptop. A video was paused in a small window, the fuzzy image held on the device that Liz Shaw had theorised and UNIT had built. Jack indicated the screen, 'They've been testing that thing Doctor Shaw designed.'

'And?' Sarah Jane came closer, curiosity outweighing any other concerns. She stood behind his chair, leaning over his shoulder but careful not to touch him.

Jack grinned but didn't turn to her, 'I don't bite, you know.'

'That's not what Mr Jones says,' Sarah Jane whispered in his ear.

Jack barked out a laugh, 'You been talking to my boyfriend?'

'Back to business, please.'

She reached around him to hit play. There was a small, sealed room at the centre of a larger research lab. In the middle of the airtight cubicle stood a pedestal, on top of that was a black box with a keypad set in to one side. It didn't look like much but these things rarely did. Sarah Jane had seen some truly remarkable devices that she would have thrown away without a second thought. And she'd seen some gorgeous, flashy devices that were utterly useless. The proof was in the eating or, in this case, in the blue smoke that was being pulled out of the corners of the cubicle. Out of all of the corners at once. There was a hasty conversation, slightly panicked, from somewhere off camera and then the device suddenly deactivated. A remote kill switch, Sarah Jane supposed, as the blue smoke ebbed away. It had been an impressive demonstration even so.

'So it works then?'

'Oh yeah,' Jack leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to Sarah Jane, 'It works exactly as described. Only one problem - how do we kill the things once they're here?'

'No-one ever asks if we should kill them,' Sarah Jane said. She moved away from the table, off towards the coffee machine that sat on another table in the far corner of the room.

Jack watched her go, 'You'd rather be decapitated and drained dry? Cuz I've tried that and it ain't much fun, believe me.'

'No, of course not.' Sarah Jane poured her coffee, forgoing the milk after a tentative sniff at the long-opened carton. She stirred in the half a spoon of sugar that she allowed herself on bad days and considered what she really did mean. She'd spent a long time protecting Earth from all sorts of threats but she always did her best not to kill. Though the little critters she and Luke had been dealing with two nights before had stretched her patience and her diplomatic skills to their limits. Still, it was a big universe and almost all creatures could find a home somewhere. She'd negotiated plenty of mutually beneficial arrangements - and she'd met one or two races that just couldn't be reasoned with. She'd never deliberately hurt anyone or anything. But she would protect her own and herself. 'No,' she said on a sigh, 'No. I just wish there was another way.'

'Sometimes there just isn't,' Jack's tone was suddenly hard, 'Sometimes you have to kill or be killed.'

'Yes, I know that Jack.'

There was a long silence. Sarah Jane sipped at her coffee absently. Jack returned his attention to the screen, playing through some more of the tests. They'd gone through dozens of possible ways to neutralise the Tindalos. Nothing had worked. There was one video with screaming alarms and flashing lights that ended with the lab begin evacuated and locked down. The Tindalos had simple drifted away again once the device was deactivated and they were left alone. There was no great intelligence there as far as Jack could tell, just raw hatred wrapped up in something old and elemental. Terrifying, deadly and not to be reasoned with. There was only one option, whatever Sarah Jane said.

'Have you called your son yet?' Sarah Jane blinked at him for a moment, then shook her head. 'You think you should?' Jack continued, pointing to the telephone that sat close to the coffee machine, 'He'll be worried about you.'

'Yes. Yes, of course,' Sarah Jane's brain finally caught up with her. 'Do you mind?' she added, already turning to the phone.

'Go ahead. Say hi from me.'

'He's not sixteen yet, Jack,' she warned.

'Jeez, what sort of a person do you guys think I am?'

'Do you really want me to answer that?' Sarah Jane said, though her focus was on the phone as she finished entering Luke's number. She waited, a smile lighting her face when the ringing ended with a, 'Mum? Are you OK?'

Jack watched her as she spoke to the boy. He didn't want to listen in but he couldn't stop himself from studying the emotions that played across Sarah Jane's face. Mostly love and fear and relief. He felt a wave of sadness wash away his smile and had to look away, marshalling his own emotions before looking up again to find Sarah Jane studying him. She looked surprised but it was quickly replaced by understanding. Jack gave a faint shrug and returned to the laptop. Sarah Jane's conversation didn't last much longer and she dropped the handset in to its cradle with a sigh.

'The boy OK?'

'Luke's fine, thank you. He spent the night with Clyde and his mum. He had Coco-Pops for breakfast. Kids,' Sarah Jane rolled her eyes.

'No blue smoke? No voices?'

'Nothing.' She dropped in to the seat opposite Jack and slumped back, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes. 'He's such a,' she stopped and tried again, 'I couldn't live without him, Jack.'

'You won't have to.'

'You live without someone, don't you?'

'Hey, when you've been around for as long as I have, you live without a lot of people.' Jack's head tilted back, eyes on the cracked ceiling tiles above him. He said, 'I have a daughter. And a grandson. I don't see them; tough to explain to a little kid why Grandad's looked the same for a few hundred years.'

'Would you like to see them?'

'I keep an eye on them.'

'It's not the same, Jack,' Sarah Jane leaned forward again, pulling Jack to her with the intensity of her gaze, 'When this is over, go and visit your daughter. Talk to her. Play with the boy. Be a grandad, Jack, just for a few hours.'

Jack hesitated. The thought made him smile; god but he'd love to do that. See Melissa, play with Steven - be a grandpa. He lowered his eyes and met Sarah Jane's intent stare. Maybe she was right, maybe he would. When this was all over. He glanced around the room, checking the corners despite the presence of his handler. He checked outside the room too, where the woman assigned to Sarah Jane was chatting with a tech in a white coat. The corners again...one last time...just to be sure.

'This stuff's starting to freak me out,' Jack said.

'It would certainly be nice to have it resolved.'

Jack's gaze returned to her face, 'You know how this is going to pan out, don't you?'

* * *

Sarah Jane was not going to like this. Martha gave another heavy sigh. No, she was not going to like this one bit. Martha wasn't very happy about it either but, god forgive her, it looked like the only answer. She stared in through the glass of Donna's room. She was still unconscious but there didn't appear to be any long-term damage; she was just sleeping. Her mother was in there along with Mr Mott. There had been no way to keep the two of them away from her without having them locked up. The room also held a nurse and a highly-trained special operative in a nurse's uniform. What Bambera thought the man could do if these Tindalos attacked baffled Martha. Though she had considered the possibility that the General had met Mrs Noble and the operative was in there to protect UNIT from her.

Tegan was in there too, chatting away in that light Aussie accent, making them all smile despite their fears. She was a different woman from the one Martha had sedated earlier. The thing that Jack had said, Martha realised, the thing about the Mara. Something had clicked in Tegan's head and now she was back to being the sort of person that the Doctor would want to travel with. Amazing what a few words could do; heal a whole person. Maybe she'd be nicer to Jack for that. Or maybe not.

Tegan patted Mr Mott's arm, smiling encouragingly to Mrs Noble as she left the room. Different, yes, but there was still a core of fear in her.

'Are you all right?' Martha said.

Tegan sighed, rubbing her hand over her face, 'Those poor people. After everything they've been through - now this.'

Martha nodded but tried again, 'Yes, but are you all right?'

'Apart from the crazed time-traveller-decapitating creatures, you mean?'

Martha smiled, 'Apart from them, yeah.'

Tegan shrugged, 'Do you know any of the others? What about the ones who didn't end up on Earth now?'

So that was it, Martha felt her smile drop away again. 'Not really,' she said. She thought about the report that had just come through from the historical research team. At least two accounts of strange beheadings that sounded suspiciously like the Tindalos. One was a Jacobean rebel; his clan had blamed the English. Torchwood were trying to get hold of an off-world contact to see if they could pick up on any intergalactic gossip. There was Jo Jones, proving as difficult to trace as ever; off on some mad expedition with her husband. Sarah Jane was worried about someone too, though she was refusing to say anything about it. There was Jenny, the Doctor's daughter. And there was Rose. Time and space didn't seem to be a problem for these things, what about boundaries between universes? 'Though I do know of a few,' Martha said thoughtfully.

There was a long pause and Martha thought that Tegan might talk about her own concerns. Instead, Tegan said, 'Bambera's going to use her, isn't she?'

Martha didn't answer, her eyes only leaving Donna's sleeping face when the nurse moved around the hospital bed and blocked Martha's view. She looked up to find Tegan watching her intently. She waited for another question but it didn't come. Whatever Tegan had been looking for, apparently she'd found it in Martha's expression. And, really, hadn't it been a forgone conclusion? Bambera had seen a quick, simple - to her mind - solution and she'd taken it. With Donna and her "defensive capabilities" and the device that Doctor Shaw had sketched out in her notes.

'Martha?' Jack's voice came from behind them.

They turned to see Jack marching towards them, Sarah Jane beyond him, jogging to keep up with his longer strides. Her jaw was set so hard that Martha was amazed she hadn't dislocated it. No, Sarah Jane Smith was not liking this at all

* * *

It was a nuclear bunker. There was no other way to describe it. Martha had had as much medical equipment moved in as she could but it still looked like a hospital bed in a block of cement. The walls were cement grey, the ceiling was the same. It was cold but oppressive and Martha couldn't help but shiver. She'd done some terrible things in her time - well, in the past few years - but this was probably going to be the worst thing ever. Even turning the Osterhagen Key seemed preferable. She was getting out, Martha decided then and there. She was calling it quits. Maybe she'd go back to medicine? Or there was always Jack's offer. Though that would be just as bad, if not worse, than this lot. No, no she wouldn't do any of that; she'd go freelance. There were plenty of things she could do that no-one else would be willing or able to do. Like this, for example.

Despite her fury, Sarah Jane had insisted on being with Donna until the last moment. Tegan and Jack too. Sir Alistair had declined to make the long walk down to the bunker itself but he was up on the surface, trying to keep General Bambera out of Sarah Jane's way. There were also a couple of nurses, some armed soldiers and the techs who had just finished setting up what had come to be known as the Shaw Device. They were all waiting for Martha now. Waiting for her to wake Donna up. The poor woman was going to be terrified. Waking up in a nuclear bunker - and she was the nuke.

'OK,' Martha said, clearing her throat and repeating the word before continuing, 'Time for you all to get to the surface. Now,' she said in a firmer tone. The UNIT personnel obeyed her orders without question. Even Tegan and Sarah Jane made for the door but Jack stood his ground. Martha glared at him, 'Jack,' she said in a warning tone.

'I can survive what happens next, if I have to,' he acknowledged Martha's doubtful look, 'but you most certainly cannot. I stay. You do what you have to do. I wait to be sure Donna's OK, set the device, then I follow you out. That's the way it's gonna be, Martha Jones. Don't question me on this.'

She would have quite happily left him to do all of it. She said, 'OK, fine. But you two,' indicating Tegan and Sarah Jane, both lingering at the bunker's reinforced door, 'go now. We won't be long.'

Sarah Jane stared at Donna for a long time. Eventually Tegan grabbed at her arm and pulled them both out of the room. Martha watched them go, her eyes not leaving the space they had filled until Jack said, 'Martha? We have to do this.'

'Do we?' she hissed. But she got to work, bustling around Donna's bed, checking readings, taking her pulse yet again. Doing anything to put off the moment. But the moment came to them. Martha felt Jack closing up behind her, 'Jack?'

He leaned over her shoulder and whispered, 'Blue smoke. Far corner.'

And the Shaw thing wasn't even on yet. Martha closed her eyes, taking a slow breath. She eased the needle into Donna's arm, withdrawing it as carefully as she could. They waited, Martha's eyes on the readings flashing beside Donna's bed. Jack glanced around them, watching the blue smoke as it hissed and oozed from the walls. They didn't have a lot of time. No, Martha didn't have a lot of time. He looked down at her, saw her eyes close, one tear escape from her dark lashes. He reached out with a gentle hand and wiped the tear away. The contact made her jump and she opened her eyes to look directly into his concerned gaze.

'Martha Jones,' he said,'the woman who saved the whole human race. You have to go now.'

He took her by the shoulders and manoeuvred her towards the bunker door. Half way there, he gave her a gentle shove and turned away. He ran back to the device, tapped at the keypad set in to its side and held his breath for a moment. The lights began to blink and the breath escaped him in a rush. He really didn't want any of them to have to go through this a second time. Least of all Donna. The thought had him looking up to see the redhead's eyes fluttering open. He glanced back to the door to see Martha still there, her own gaze shifting to the hospital bed. She took a few steps towards it and he called out, 'Martha, no! Get out of here.'

Jack jogged back to Donna's side. He forced a smile to his face and patted Donna's arm. She was still groggy but she was coming to rapidly. Rapidly enough to realise that her wrists were cuffed to the bed. She tucked at the bonds, her eyes darting around her. Fear blossomed on her face and Jack felt his heart break. He patted her arm again, leaning over her to whisper in to her ear. She stilled for a moment, expression suddenly bewildered before the fear was back and she jerked her arms wildly.

'I'm so sorry, Donna Noble,' Jack said.

He forced himself to turn away from her now, relieved to see that Martha had finally gone. He glanced back, seeing the corner of the room now filled with blue smoke. More of it rushed in. He looked around the rest of the bunker and saw smoke gushing from all of the corners. It was being pulled towards the device, sucked in to the room and swirling around. Donna followed his gaze and her eyes widened even more. She swallowed visibly, here eyes darting from the smoke to Jack and back again. He cast her one last look, so sad that she stilled again but only for a moment.

'Hey! Here, you! Come back,' she begged as Jack turned and headed for the door. He was almost there when she shouted, 'Oi, Spaceman!'

Jack stopped, his head dropping to his chest. He waited but she said no more. The sounds of her frantic movements had stilled too; she was no-longer fighting her bonds. God but he hoped she didn't need to use her hands to do whatever the hell it was she was going to do. Hopefully going to do, he corrected himself. Please god - please Doctor - let her survive this. He couldn't bring himself to look back and he hated himself even more for it. But he forced his legs to move under him, carrying him the last few paces to the bunker's inner door. He swung himself around it, heaving the foot-thick metal closed behind him. He heard Donna say something but wouldn't allow himself to comprehend the words. Then the door was closing with a heavy thud and he was spinning the lock furiously. The lock caught and sealed and he turned on his heels. To find Martha standing behind him.

'Godammit, Martha Jones, do you ever do what you're told?'

He grabbed for her arm and jerked her body around. There was a long corridor, rising in a sharp incline, at the top of which was an elevator to take them the last few hundred feet. It was a good five minutes run back to that, plus the time to get up to the surface, and Bambera had made it very clear that the outer doors would be locked and airtight at the first hint of trouble. They were long past the first hint of anything. Jack knew he could survive whatever Donna was about to throw at the Tindalos. It wouldn't be much fun but he could survive it. But Martha? If Donna's defensive reaction was proportionate to the threat - all of the Tindalos in one go? She could take the whole facility out.

That's assuming this works, a nasty little voice whispered in Jack's mind. He swatted the thought away and yanked Martha forward. He only had to pull her along for a few feet before she seemed to come back to herself and was moving under her own power. They ran side-by-side up the corridor, legs pumping as they increased their speed. Jack glance at her, not able to hide the wild thrill that was coursing through him. Martha had the same look in her eyes, though her face was still set in devastation. Jack reached out and grabbed for her hand again. He didn't know why and he didn't care; it just felt good to be holding on to another living, breathing human being. When you were running for your life, leaving god alone knew what behind you, it was that sort of thing that became important.

The ground lurched beneath them and they both stumbled. Their hands parted as they bounced off the walls and were thrown back together again. Jack looked up. The elevator entrance was another twenty feet away. Could they make it? Jack threw his arm around Martha's shoulder and huddled them forward. He wanted to force them on, drag them both towards the elevator but it was just too far. His larger body shielded Martha as a wave of heat hit them from behind. It burned at his back, fiery even through the heavy material of his great coat. Martha hissed in pain, stumbling again. Jack wrapped his body around her and pushed them both to the floor. Blinding light erupted from the bunker door below them and flooded the corridor. Jack cried out, burying his head in Martha's neck. He did his best to protect the smaller form, pressing Martha's face to the cold floor, trying to cover her entire body. And then things got worse.

Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones and Tegan Jovanka sat side-by-side on the park bench. Martha's arm was still in plaster. Her burned hair was growing back in frizzy patches. She refused to wear a wig despite her mother's pleas. She looked like the level of hell that Dante forgot and Sarah Jane suspected that was exactly how she felt. Not just physically, either; they all felt the weight of what they had been party to. Sarah Jane leaned back and looked across Martha's shoulders to catch Tegan's gaze. They shared concerned glances but said nothing. The three of them had sat on this bench in this park every day since Martha had been discharged from the UNIT Medical Wing but they never seemed to finish the conversations that they had begun on the first day.

'So you just quit?' Tegan said, trying to start the conversation yet again.

'Yes,' Martha said.

'What did General Bambera,' disgust dripped from Sarah Jane's lips, 'think about that?'

Martha answered after a long pause, saying, 'I think she was relieved. Not big on civilians.'

'So what now then?' Tegan asked.

'Back to medicine?' Sarah Jane said hopefully.

Another long pause. Tegan watched the mothers and children playing at the little climbing frame off to her right. She smiled at them; it was nice to see kids again. Nice to see all sorts of people. She took a deep breath and felt freedom fill her lungs. She could have done without the long list of dead and the short list of injured but she was pleased to have helped to save people again. And she was pleased to have survived - not just this but the last twelve years. The last fifty years. She could do anything she wanted now. Sarah Jane had been kind to her, letting her stay at Bannerman Road with her and Luke, a part of her extended family, but she needed to find something for herself now.

Eventually Martha said, 'No.'

Tegan had to backtrack to work out what Martha was saying no to, 'What then?'

'You're not joining Torchwood, surely?' Sarah Jane said.

Martha ignored the appalled tone and just shook her head. Another long pause, then, 'I'm going freelance.'

'Freelance?' Tegan said. She looked across to Sarah Jane again and received a shrug of confusion in answer to her own raised brow. 'You mean like,' Tegan waved her hands around vaguely, 'like... Like the Doctor?' Martha and Sarah Jane stared at her. She really hated being stared at like that; she'd had it for twelve years, that was enough. 'Don't look at me like that,' her voice dropped, 'You know what I mean.'

'More like you,' Martha said to Sarah Jane.

'Me?'

'Yeah, you know, dealing with stuff when it comes up. Helping people when you can. Doing stuff that no-one else can do. Will do' she added with a trace of bitterness in her tone.

They sat in silence again. Watching the people go by. Sarah Jane nodded a greeting to an elderly couple who went past hand-in-hand. She felt a stab of pain, a flash of memory; walking hand-in-hand with River, wondering what it would be like to grow old with the woman, to walk hand-in-hand with her forever. She shook the thought away and wilfully ignored the glances that her sudden movement earned her. She liked Martha. She was a good person who had survived what seemed to have been a tough year with the Doctor. Tougher than anything Sarah Jane had dealt with. If the vague hints that Jack had given her were anything to go by, Martha was even stronger than she seemed. Though, at the moment, she didn't seem that strong at all. She looked deflated. Not just the injuries and the hair but her whole being seemed to have sunk in on itself. Perhaps she was finally paying for her time with the Doctor?

'Are you sure?' Sarah Jane said. Martha nodded but said nothing. 'Well, then, perhaps we might work together?'

The question surprised Martha almost as much as it surprised Sarah Jane. Together? She'd never worked with anyone. Not even River really. And there was Luke and Clyde and Rani to worry about now too. But... It would be nice to share all this with someone. It would be nice to have someone above the age of majority to unburden to, to share the workload and the woes. And there was always more work than she could handle. She'd begun to think about leaving the newspaper to focus on all the weirdness that Earth seemed to be attracting at the moment. That she seemed to be attracting.

Martha turned to her, studying her closely She saw the emotions cross Sarah Jane's eyes before a smile broke out on the older woman's face. Martha found herself smiling in return. Yeah, she'd like that. Sarah Jane knew what she was doing, she was already doing it. Her cover with the newspaper would help too. Could this work? Did she want to work with anyone else? That was the thing. Martha liked the idea of going solo; she'd had enough of following orders that she didn't agree with and doing other people's dirty work. She'd done far too much of other people's dirty work in the past few years. But... This was Sarah Jane Smith, not UNIT or Torchwood. Sarah Jane Smith. No guns, three kids, job at the 'paper. Twenty-odd years of saving Earth without any credit and without asking for anything in return. Martha turned away from Sarah Jane before looking back again. She realised she was already nodding her agreement so maybe the decision wasn't so difficult after all.

Tegan watched the silent communication, following it easily; you got good at picking up on that sort of thing when you lived in a place like the Keeley. She felt her own lips twitch in to a smile and the words were out before she'd really considered them, 'You'll be needing a secretary. Can't do 100 words a minute like Donna but I reckon I could bang out a letter. They still have typewriters, do they?' she added with a smirk.

The three of them were laughing again, propping each other up as they pitched and rolled on the park bench. It wasn't mirthless this time, it was warm and genuine. The laughter was finally running down when someone walked up to the bench.

'Did I miss something?' Jack's tone was playful, 'Discussing a threesome? Need a fourth?'

'You're a filthy old bugger, aren't you Cap'n Jack?' Tegan said.

'As often as I can be,' he said as he sat down. Jack looked from one woman to the next and quirked a brow in question. They looked at him and began to laugh again. 'Jeez,' he muttered, 'what have you three been drinking?'

They calmed down again and the four of them sat in silence, squashed up on the bench, shoulders pressed close as they looked around the park. Some of the kids had been taken home by their mothers, Tegan noticed with regret. Sarah Jane smiled at a lone woman with drooping shoulders who was carrying two shopping bags in each hand. Martha and Jack reached across Tegan to clasp hands for a moment before going back to staring out at the park. Then something caught their attentions, all of them sitting up as straight as they could in the little space available. Their heads followed the path of an old man pushing a wheelchair. The woman in the chair was younger than him but she was slumped down and her head lolled slightly as the man laboured to get them both up the slight incline. He was chatting away, telling her something that made him laugh but barely altered her expression.

'I got hold of her med records,' Jack said, 'She's doing OK. Everything's intact; no physical injuries, no brain damage. It's just,' he trailed off.

'She's still healing,' Tegan said, 'That can take a while.'

'You think -' Martha began but couldn't finish.

Sarah Jane said 'I think the Doctor wouldn't do anything to her that could harm her in the long-term.'

'It wasn't the Doctor who did this to her,' Martha pointed out.

'She'll be OK,' Jack said, 'She's getting good care and her family are with her. She'll be OK.'

He looked across the bench, studying each of the three women in turn. Oh how he'd like to hire the lot of them. But he'd caught a bit of their conversation as he loitered behind the bench. The three of them - working together. That would put the fear of heck up lot of the aliens who thought Earth was an easy mark. UNIT, Torchwood or these three? He knew which team he'd put his money on.


End file.
